


Birthday Bash

by Singerme



Category: Gunsmoke
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerme/pseuds/Singerme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitty's Birthday isn't quite what she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Bash

Birthday Bash

I don’t own these characters; I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had.

**Author’s note: I seriously need to give thanks to my friend LilyJack for all her help on this. A lot of the best ideas came from her.**

**MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**

 

It had all started with a simple question.

“So, what are you and Matt going to do for your birthday?” Doc asked her. Kitty’s birthday was the next day.

Kitty shrugged, “I don’t know. Matt hasn’t said anything.”

Doc looked a little askance at her. “He does know when your birthday is, doesn’t he?”

Kitty nodded. “Of course he knows, Doc. I mean after all these years….and besides, if you remember after what happened last year, he promised me he would make sure this year would be different.

Doc took a swipe of his mustache and nodded. He did indeed remember the party, Matt left in the middle of, to chase after a girl who had been taken by the Kiowa Indians, only to find she really wasn’t kidnapped and her father was Kiowa. It had taken awhile, before Kitty had forgiven that incident. “Well, maybe you’re right.” Doc said non-committally.

“I am right.” Kitty avowed, although she really wasn’t as sure about that right then as she had been.

Doc saw the expression on her face, took another sip of his coffee, then stood. “Well Kitty, I’ve got to get on my way. I’ve got some calls to make, and I need to stop and check on Matt.”

A look of concern crossed her face and she nodded. “He did look pretty wiped out last night, and that eye looked pretty bad too, where that Gart Pringle hit him.”

Doc shrugged slightly. “Well, if he’d listened to me in the first place he wouldn’t have been hit. I told him to get some rest before he tangled with that bearcat. But you know him. Stubborn as they come.”

Kitty nodded, she did indeed know Matt Dillon. “Will you tell him I’ll be over later to check on him?”

Doc nodded. “I sure will. But don’t worry about him; it’s just a little black eye. He’ll be alright in a day or two.”

As Doc took his leave, Kitty sat back in thought. She really did hope he was alright, because if he had forgotten her birthday, she was going to give him more than a black eye.

 

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

 

Doc bustled into the jail, irritating the big man more than he already was. With a black eye, and an upcoming meeting of the temperance committee, Matt was just not a happy man. “What do you want?” he grumped, as Doc sat his bag down on the small square table in the room and turned to peer at him.

“Well, there could be a lot of answers to that.” Doc said, with a slight grin. “But I came over here to have a look at that eye of yours. You weren’t looking too good last night, according to Kitty.”

Matt laid his head wearily in his upturned palms as he looked at the mound of paperwork on his desk, which also needed to be done. “The eye’s fine and I’m just a little tired, Doc, nothing to worry about.”

“Well maybe so,” Doc said. “But you need to take better care of your self. Have you had dinner?”

Matt shook his head. “Wasn’t hungry Doc. Besides, I have too much work to do.”

Doc brow creased as he pushed his hat back on his head and tugged at his ear. “You really must be sick.” He said with amusement in his voice.

Matt glared at the physician’s sense of humor, before getting up from his desk. “Besides heckling me, in the name of practicing your profession, is there anything else you came over here for?”

Doc walked over and grabbed a coffee mug and held it out while Matt was pouring. “Yes there is,” he answered. “Kitty’s birthday is tomorrow. I was wondering if you remembered that.”

Matt nodded, with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah I did, Doc, and for once I’m way ahead on that front. I’ve been working with Sam on a surprise party for her. After that I have a little something else planned for the weekend.”

Doc grinned in amazement. “Well, well,” he mused. “I’m impressed. Learned your lesson from last year huh?”

Matt’s glare returned. “Now you know last year wasn’t my fault. I had no choice in that. Kitty knows that too, or at least she does now. But…well, you’re right in a way. She deserves a happy birthday, and this year I’m going to see to that she gets it.”

“Not if you don’t take care of yourself,” Doc commented. “You won’t be able to give Kitty anything but an exhausted lawman to take care of, otherwise.”

Matt rubbed the back of his stiffening neck. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that.” Matt looked down again at the paperwork on his desk and the flyer for the temperance meeting. “Come on, Doc.” He said, as he headed for the door. “Let’s go get some food.”

Doc grinned. “Now that’s more like it.”

As Matt and Doc ambled down the boardwalk to the café, one of Mrs. McCarthy’s chocolate pies disappeared from her window sill. The third such pie to disappear in the last two days.

As they dug into the heaping plates placed in front of them, a box of cookies disappeared from the table in Mrs. Fields kitchen.

And as Matt and Doc finished their dinner, and prepared to leave the restaurant, Mr. Bodkin’s gold pocket watch went missing from his pocket, as he returned to the bank from having his noon meal.

 

  
**MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**  
Part 2

 

As he walked back towards the jail, Matt had to admit, Doc was right. He did feel a little better after eating something. Though his eye still hurt like fury, he thought he’d make it through at least his paperwork, and his spirits picked up a little.

But as he walked towards the jail, several people seemed intent on bringing them back down. “Hey Marshal,” one yelled. “Did ya forget to duck? Or is that what hit ya?” “Doorways in town too short, Marshal?” But the one that made him mad came from someone behind him and as fast as he turned he couldn’t see the speaker. “Get hit with a little red headed fury?” some one called out.

Matt squared his shoulders and turned once again towards the jail determined to ignore the jabs. He was not going to let them bring his spirits down. He had something special planned for the next three days and nothing or no one was going to spoil it for him.

However, he just stepped back into the jail, when he was assailed by Mrs. McCarthy, Mrs. Fields and Mr. Bodkin. All three talking at once, each striving to talk louder than the other and each getting angrier with every breath.

Matt stood in total silence for a moment before raising his head and his hand. “Alright!!” he shouted, to be heard above them. “One of you at time. What is all this?”

“We have a thief around town here, Marshal.” Mrs. McCarthy told him imperially. “I have had three of my prize pies stolen in the last two days.”

“And my cookies, Marshal.” Declared, Mrs. Fields. “I sat a box of cookies on my kitchen table to be delivered and they are missing.”

“So is my watch.” Mr. Bodkin growled. “I was walking down the boardwalk to the bank and it just disappeared.”

Matt stood staring at the three for a moment, trying valiantly to keep his temper. “That’s what this is all about?” he finally asked through clenched teeth. “Missing pies and a lost watch?” His voice rose and cracked with each syllable.

“Don’t forget my cookies.” Mrs. Fields added, before she caught the look he gave her.

Matt looked at the three people in front of him, each one nattering on about their misfortunes. Fortunately he didn’t have to decide which to address first right then, as the door flew open.

“Marshal, you’d best come quick.” Louie gasped. “There’s trouble over at the Lady Gay.”

Matt was almost relieved at the thought of breaking up a bar fight. It beat what he was currently facing in his office. Sparing only a glance in their direction, Matt left his visitors with their mouths agape, and hurriedly left his office racing over to the Lady Gay.

An hour later, he tiredly stumbled back into his office, dragging a drunk in with him. “Alright you, in there.” Matt pointed him in the direction of the cells and gave him a shove. Once the man was locked in, Matt turned back into the office and hung the keys on the peg by the door.

His visitors had left thank goodness, but the work on his desk hadn’t. Wearily he seated him self behind his desk and began to sort through the envelopes in front of him, when the door opened and Kitty stepped in.

“How are you feeling, Cowboy?” she asked, walking over to place her hand on his forehead.

Matt pulled her hand from his head and kissed it. “I’m alright,” he said. “Just a little tired and overworked.”

Kitty glanced around, then placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Well maybe you should leave all this till later and get some rest for tomorrow.” she said suggestively.

Matt shook his head. “I wish I could,” he said regretfully, “but I’ve put this stuff off for too long as it is.”

“Well,” Kitty kissed him again, deeper this time, “if it’s waited this long, can’t it wait a while longer, say like the day after tomorrow?” Kitty was giving him hints in hopes he would remember what tomorrow was.

Matt shook his head again. “Nope, tomorrow morning, I’ve got to ride out to the Stoner ranch to check on some missing cows, then tomorrow evening I’ve got that temperance meeting to monitor and I’ve been getting reports of some items being stolen around town. This is about the only time I’ve got to do this.” Matt didn’t miss the look in her eyes as he talked of all the things he had to do on her birthday.

Kitty stepped back from him, a glower replacing the smile. “So you’re going to be busy, all day tomorrow?” she asked.  
Matt heard the disappointment and a touch of anger in her voice and came close to telling her his plans, but he kept his silence. He wanted her party to be special and a total surprise.

“Well, I’ll try to stop in sometime during the day, but I can’t promise anything,” he said casually. “Why, is tomorrow special or something?”

“Oh, no.” she snapped at him, her voice an octave higher. “Nothing special at all.”

Matt didn’t miss the tone of voice, and the fire in her eyes. He came close to telling her his secret but restrained himself with the greatest of difficulty.

Kitty took another couple of steps away from him and turned back for the door. “Well, then Marshal.” She said coldly, as she opened the door. “I won’t take up any more of your time.” Kitty left with out another word.

Matt wanted to go after her, apologize, explain, but he didn’t. He sat silently watching as she stormed from his office and down the boardwalk back to the Long Branch.

Matt went back to his paperwork. He sure hoped her surprise was worth her anger.

Note: No actual harm was committed against small children in the making of this fic.

 

  
**MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**  
Part 3

 

The next morning dawned bright and chilly, in more ways than one.

Matt had stopped into the Long Branch late the night before, but the red headed saloon proprietress, barely spoke to him. Matt glanced at Sam, who shrugged. The bartender knew all too well what the problem was, but kept his silence.

Matt hoped tonight, after her surprise party, she would be a little more accepting of his attentions. But he knew right then, probably not.

Getting up from the uncomfortable jail cot, Matt slipped on his pants and shirt then shuffled to the stove and started a pot of coffee. Glancing in the mirror, above the wash stand, his black eye seemed to be even blacker, but at least it didn’t hurt so much.

Coffee done, he poured a cup, and had barely taken a sip when the door burst open and Mr. Lathrop walked in, dragging a tow headed boy in with him. “Marshal, I caught me a sneak thief.” He declared. “Dang kid stole some candy right out from under my nose.” Lathrop stopped then looked at Matt a little closer. “Say you got quite a shiner there.”

Matt sighed deeply then looked down at the kid in Lathrop’s grasp. “What’s your name, son?” He asked, ignoring the remark about his eye.

“Ain’t none of your business.” The boy sneered. “I don’t have to tell you nothin’, Mr. Black eyes.”

Matt curtailed his natural inclination to turn the boy over his knee, but just barely. For a few seconds he stood indecisively, then looked back over at Mr. Lathrop. “Did you get your candy back?”

Mr. Lathrop nodded. “I caught him as he was walking out the door.”

“Alright then, you go on, Mr. Lathrop, and I’ll take care of this.”

Woody Lathrop didn’t look convinced, or happy, but he relinquished the boy into Matt’s hands and turned for the door. “Just make sure he doesn’t come back to my store.” He fumed, as he stomped out of the jail.

Matt looked back down at the boy left in his custody, and shook his head. “I’m going to finish dressing,” he told the urchin, “then we’ll see if we can find your parents.”

The boy said nothing as he warily watched the big man. But as soon as Matt turned back to put on his boots, the boy bolted for the door. Making it through and out to the street beyond, where he took no time in losing himself amongst the citizens of Dodge.

Matt gave a brief chase until his tender bare foot stepped on a hard sharp rock right outside his office. Hobbling back into his office, he slammed the door behind him only to have the small mirror above the wash basin, fall off the wall and break. Shaking his head, Matt stumbled over to his cot to finish dressing. Didn’t look like he’d make out to the Stoner’s ranch today.

Three hours later, Matt walked into his office, tired, sore footed and irritated. He had gotten reports from all over town about the mean little villain and he was sure he now knew who had taken the pies, cookies and watch. But he hadn’t been able to find the kid.

Slamming his hat onto its peg, he limped over to the stove and picked up the pot to pour himself some coffee.

“I wish you took your duties as seriously as you do your coffee, Marshal.”

Matt turned to see Mrs. McCarthy standing there, the urchin from that morning firmly within her clutches. “I found this little hooligan, stealing another one of my pies.” She looked at Matt with barely contained wrath.

“Mrs. McCarthy,” Matt stated as he determinedly walked over to where she and the boy stood, “I’ll take things from here.”

 

**MKMKMKMKMKMK**

 

Kitty stood at her accustomed spot, at the end of the bar, and looked around at the noon day crowd. Seemed like most of Dodge’s drinking men were there, except the one she really wanted to see.

Feeling somewhat ashamed for her reaction the day before, she decided maybe she had just caught Matt at a bad time. “Sam,” she called over her shoulder as she took her wrap, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Sam nodded as he watched her leave. He hoped she was gone for longer than that; he needed to get some things done for that evening’s festivities.

Kitty made her way over to the jail, passing a very agitated Mrs. McCarthy on the way. “Hello, Mrs. McCarthy.” She greeted. The woman sneered but refused to answer. Kitty arched her eyebrows and shrugged, continuing her journey to the jail.

When she stepped up to the door, she heard a child crying. Opening the door, she looked in to find Matt sitting on a chair, a small boy turned over his knee. “Matt!” she exclaimed as she walked in. “What are you doing?”

Matt looked up to see Kitty standing in the doorway, an annoyed look on her face. “I’m spanking this kid’s a……”

“Oh no you’re not,” she stopped him. “Let that child go.”

Now Timmy Bennett was not a stupid boy, and noticing a shift in his fortunes, he decided to play his new hand. “Make him let me go,” he cried. “I swear, Ma’am, I didn’t do nothing. I was just walking along when this mean old man just grabbed me.”

“Old man?!” Matt growled, raising his hand again before he saw the look on Kitty’s face.

Kitty gave Matt a withering look. “Why did you grab him?” she asked.

Matt held the boy by the scruff of his neck and stood up. “I didn’t grab him. Mrs. McCarthy brought him in here; she caught him stealing one of her pies.”

Kitty wavered, knowing Matt wouldn’t lie to her. The boy noticed and spoke up, “I was just hungry, was all.” He whined. “I ain’t had nothing to eat for two whole days.”

“Matt,” Kitty exclaimed again. “You heard him. He was just hungry. Let him go, I said.”

Matt was no more stupid than Timmy. He let him go.

Timmy swiftly crossed the room to Kitty’s side, holding tightly to her skirts and giving Matt a cheeky grin. “I’m taking this child with me.” She declared. “I’ll get him something to eat and then we’ll find his parents.”

“Oh, I ain’t got no parents,” Timmy quickly lied. “I’m all alone.” He hugged Kitty tighter, and stuck his tongue out at Matt.  
Kitty glared at Matt. “Come with me,” she looked kindly down at the boy. “Marshal,” she said rigidly as she left, forgetting the whole reason she had gone to the jail in the first place.

Matt stood in confusion for several minutes trying to figure out just exactly what had happened, when it dawned on him. That little boy was a thief and he had just let Kitty take him with her.

Matt started after her, but opening his door he plowed straight into a woman standing on the other side.  
“I assume you are the Marshal?” She woman looked him over carefully.

Matt nodded. “Uh….yes, Ma’am. Can I help you?” He glanced behind her to see Kitty and the little boy making their way over to Delmonico’s.

“No, Sir,” the woman stated. “I am here to help you. My name is Carrie Nation, and I am here to clear your town of the devil alcohol. And by the looks of your eye I’m not a minute too soon.”

Matt stood looking down at the pugnacious woman in front of him then looked past her one more time; to see Kitty and the brat, disappear into the restaurant. He decided they would keep for a moment while he dealt with the tall, gray haired woman in his doorway.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Miss Nation.” He said, stepping back, to allow the heavy set dynamo into the office.  
“It’s Mrs., Marshal,” she corrected him. “And I had thought by now, you would’ve received the flyer I sent you.”

Matt remembered. The meeting. It was to be held this afternoon. “Oh yes, Mrs. Nation.” Matt said. “I do remember. But I’m afraid it’s not going to be easy to get people around here to see your point of view on this. There are a lot of drinkers in Dodge. Besides, getting the sale of alcohol stopped in Dodge was tried once before, and failed.”

The large, broad faced woman nodded. “Oh yes, the Reverend Campbell, if I’m not mistaken, came through here a few years back.”

Matt nodded, “Yes, Ma’am, and try as he might, he couldn’t get enough votes to do anything.”

“Yes well, Marshall,” the woman said with a smirk on her fleshy face. “I have a feeling; I just might succeed, where he failed.”

Matt looked at her in concern, checking for the hatchet, she was reported to carry, and relieved when he didn’t see it. “Just what do you have in mind, Mrs. Nation?” He asked. “I warn you, I strictly enforce the law around here. If you have any intentions of the tactics you’ve used in other towns, I won’t tolerate them. The saloon owners here are running perfectly legal businesses, and I will not let you interfere with that.”

The rather mannish looking woman patted Matt on the hand and headed for the door. “Oh don’t you worry, Marshal.” She smiled rather sinisterly. “The law and I are old friends, in many places.”

Matt scratched his head, watching as the woman opened the door and stepped outside. “Have a good day, Marshal.” She said cheerily, as she closed the door behind her.

Remembering his mission, before Mrs. Nation’s visit, Matt grabbed his hat and headed across the street to the café. He needed to talk to Kitty, and he needed to get that kid back in his custody, before he stole Kitty blind.

Crossing the street he had barely made the boardwalk, when Kitty exited the eatery without the pint-sized terror. “Where’s the kid?” he questioned, when he reached her side.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “I took him into Delmonico’s to get him something to eat. Before I could even get seated, he was out the back door and gone. I went back there looking for him, but I couldn’t find him.” Kitty knew Matt was going to be upset with her for this, but she didn’t care, she was still peeved at him for forgetting her birthday and spanking the little boy.

Matt opened his mouth to say something, but Kitty raised her hand. “Don’t say a word to me, Matt Dillon.” She ordered. “Just don’t say a word.”

Matt started to say something anyway, but he spotted the boy, running down the opposite side of the street with something in his hand. “See ya later, Kitty.” He told her as he took off in pursuit of the little bandit that had been terrorizing Dodge.

 

(Per Wikipedia) Carrie Amelia Moore Nation (November 25, 1846 – June 9, 1911) was a radical member of the temperance movement, which opposed alcohol in pre-Prohibition America. She is particularly noteworthy for promoting her viewpoint through vandalism. On many occasions Nation would enter an alcohol-serving establishment and attack the bar with a hatchet. Alone or accompanied by hymn-singing women she would march into a bar, and sing and pray while smashing bar fixtures and stock with a hatchet. Her actions often did not include other people, just herself. Between 1900 and 1910 she was arrested some 30 times for "hatchetations," as she came to call them. Carrie didn’t actually start her temperance work until 1899 but she was just too perfect a character, not to use her.

Note: No actual harm was committed against small children in the making of this fic.

 

  
**MKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMKMK**  
Part 4

 

Kitty stood on the boardwalk for a moment, aggravated, as she watched Matt take off in pursuit of the small blond outlaw. Though not particularly pleased that the youngster had run off, she didn’t like the thought of Matt spanking him. However, watching the boy run, she had a feeling the child wasn’t in any danger for a while.

Smiling at that thought, she turned and headed back over to her saloon. The great Marshal Dillon just may have met his match in the small little brigand.

 

**XOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXO**

 

Matt chased the boy until he was out of breath and out of options. He couldn’t find the little fiend anywhere. Finally stopping his pursuit, he turned and started limping back to the jail. He just couldn’t chase a phantom anymore, and besides his foot hurt where he’d stepped on the rock that morning.

Heading to the jail, Matt had crossed the street and was nearing an alley when he saw the boy heading his way. Quickly, Matt stepped back into the alley, patiently waiting for the boy to come past him.

Smart as he was, Timmy Bennett couldn’t evade the Marshal forever. Just as he passed the alley, the long arm of the law, in this case Matt Dillon, reached out and snatched the little miscreant and pulled him up short. Timmy began to kick, landing several good blows to Matt’s leg, but Matt ignored it as he inexorably began to carry him back to the jail.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to be able to kick his way free, Timmy started to cry, and as that had no effect, wail. Still the stoic lawman ignored his prisoner’s protests and kept up his pace.

However, Matt still didn’t make it to the jail. He was just a few steps away, when Sam came running up, excited and out of breath. “Marshal, you’d better come quick. They’re trying to break up the Long Branch.”

After only a second’s pause, Matt took off for the saloon, with the almost forgotten kid in hand. When he arrived at the saloon, he paused at the doors. Finally remembering the boy, he still had a firm grasp of, he shoved him towards Sam. “Here, watch him. Don’t let him go.” He told the bartender.

Looking into the saloon, he didn’t know whether to be amused or upset. Standing in the middle of the barroom, was none other than Mrs. Carrie Nation and seven other ladies, similar in looks and manner, with hatchets raised, singing hymns and barely being held off by one very angry, shotgun wielding, redheaded, saloon owner.

“What’s going on in here?” Matt yelled, trying to be heard over the very loud, off-key hymn, ‘Shall We Gather at the River’.

“Matt, you’d better tell these old bittys to get out of here, or I will blast them out.” Kitty warned, finger on the trigger.

As Matt stepped into the bar room, sweet little Timmy Bennett saw a chance to get away and have some fun at the same time. Kicking Sam in the shin, he scrambled into the saloon, when Sam let him go to rub his injured ankle. Running into the saloon, Timmy managed to kick one of the temperance ladies and grabbed a beer from one of the tables nearby.

The cowboy, he took the beer from, Hovey Whitaker, was not amused and gave chase, bumping into another already inebriated patron who took offense at the intrusion and punched Hovey, who fell back, landing in the lap of Clyde Dunn sitting behind him.

Clyde, having neither the inclination, nor desire, to tolerate such behavior, promptly picked Hovey up and threw him into the chest of the Marshal, who promptly fell against Mrs. Nation. She in turn, fell against Viola Kimble, who slapped Mrs. Nation for tearing her dress with her hatchet. Mrs. Nation moved to retaliate, but missed Viola and slapped Purity Pram instead. Purity fell back and landed on Ada Lee Heffernan, knocking them both senseless.

Before Matt could turn around, the place was in chaos. Three ladies were trying to keep Mrs. Nation at bay, while two others were trying were trying to help her. Hovey and Clyde, being the generous men that they were, had spread their fight to four other men, who previously had been playing cards.

Two other men, Donald Taft and Julius Hickman, or Julie as he was more commonly known, saw the ruckus from the street and very quickly joined in on the fun.

Doc had made his way to the doors, but upon looking in, changed his mind and went back to his office to prepare for the patients he knew he would soon have.

Matt waded into the maelstrom, pulling bodies apart and gruffly ordering them to stop, but his efforts were futile. The only he thing he received for his hard work and diligence as a lawman that day, was another black eye to match his first, and a contusion on his forehead from one of the temperance ladies signs.

Kitty had yelled until she was hoarse, but her pleas for calm went unnoticed. Finally, in frustration, she fired the shotgun up into the air. It too went unnoticed. At one point, when Julie was thrown against the bar, she dumped a half full mug of beer on him. Julie smiled at her, thanked her for the drink and promptly punched Viola Kimble, who Mrs. Nation had succeeded in pushing into him.

Kitty soon realized that as a responsible bar owner, she had only one course of action available to her. She laid the shotgun down, leaned on the back bar, and watched.

Louie, who had heard the commotion, stumbled into the saloon and quickly made his way over to the bar. “What’s all the rookus?” he asked Kitty.

Smiling beneficently, Kitty poured him a drink of whiskey and shrugged. “Oh nothing.” She responded. “Just celebrating my birthday.”

Louie lifted his glass in the air and gave her a curt nod. “Then Happy Birthday, Miss. Kitty.” He grinned, as he drank his whiskey in one swallow and swiftly ducked, when a chair came flying in his direction.

Mrs. Nation, who had been in many bar rooms and done her fair share of damage in those dens of iniquity, was not fairing so well this time out. Her dress torn, her glasses askew and hair completely undone, she finally found her way behind the bar next to where Kitty was standing. She had lost her hatchet and if Kitty wasn’t mistaken, one of her front teeth.

Kitty, who had just refreshed Louie’s drink, promptly poured one for the portly older woman and handed it to her. “Here,” Kitty said. “I think you need this.”

Carrie took the glass from the tavern owner, looked at it, looked at Kitty, then quickly drank it in one gulp. Smacking her lips for a moment, she held the glass back out which Kitty promptly refilled, just as Matt finally stumbled up to stand beside them.

“Well, you enjoying your birthday so far?” he grinned at Kitty, just as another chair came flying in their direction and they ducked to avoid it.

Kitty returned the grin, realizing he hadn’t forgotten after all, and nodded. “Best birthday bash I’ve ever had,” she answered, once again refilling Mrs. Nations glass, watching her toss it back as she had the first two, and belch loudly.

Matt started to ask about that, but changed his mind, when he noticed that the ongoing melee was finally beginning to wind down.

But before he headed back into the fracas, he wrapped an arm around Kitty’s waist and yanked her tightly against him, planting a big wet kiss on her lips. “Save me a drink.” He told Kitty, as he once again waded in and began to earn his pay as the chief peacekeeper of Dodge.

 

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

 

Later that night, Matt pulled Kitty to him once again, trailing kisses down her neck. “Well, was your birthday everything you hoped it would be?”

Kitty giggled, “Well, I’m not sure I hoped for a totally destroyed bar, or a drunken temperance lady singing Happy Birthday to me while she was being arrested, but it sure was something.”

Matt joined her in the laughter. “Yes it was,” he said. “But it leaves me with a heck of a problem.”

Kitty looked at him curiously. “What’s that?”

Matt grinned mischievously. “How am I gonna top it next year?”

 

FINIS


End file.
